Sick and Twisted - A Killer Romance
by Awen Sofer
Summary: Rue Ryuzaki, also known as Beyond Birthday, is a serial killer who never wanted anyone, in a romantic sense anyway, until he found her. She was like him and that drew him to her like a moth to the flame. However, the murderous fire contained in them could leave them both burned. This could be a romance that no one gets out of alive. AU. NO fluff included.
1. Psychos of a feather

This is a plot bunny that's been hopping around in my head for a while so I decided to set it free. This story is dedicated to my awesome beta and wonderful friend, xfang-girlx.

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Serafina Bethesda, her name means angel of mercy. In a way, she supposed she was one. Working as an anesthesiologist at the biggest hospital in Los Angeles, she spared people from the pain of surgery by separating them from consciousness. For a while, she held their life in her hands. It was her job to bring them closer to death than sleep before returning them to their usual state of consciousness. One wrong calculation, one milligram over or under the correct dosage of an IV anesthetic or the incorrect ratio of oxygen to the gaseous anesthetic, could mean death or at the best possible scenario, the patient being brain-dead or paralyzed. She held the power of life and death in her hands, and she loved it.

"Sera? Are you about ready?" the head surgical nurse inquired, breaking her out of her insane reverie.

"Let me run one last check of everything," she replied, thankful that her mask shielded the sight of her mad grin. Pushing buttons in rapid succession, she put her monitors and equipment through a quick series of tests to make sure everything was operating correctly. She punched in the patient's vital statistics one last time to triple check the dosage of the intravenous paralytic. This man, being a three hundred pound body builder, was getting an IV injection in addition to the gas. A hernia due to weight lifting was being repaired. Poor bastard. If he only knew how much she hated men, he would never go under the knife. At least not in her operating room.

The irritating squeak of the wheels on the gurney being wheeled into the operating room screeched through the immaculate silence and echoed off of the disinfected metal surfaces. The man looked terrified despite being given a tranquilizer. He looked all around at the masked faces surrounding him. He flinched when a nurse slipped the bulky monitor onto his finger while another placed electrodes on his chest for the ECG monitoring.

"Don't worry. You'll be fine," Sera assured him in her seductive phone sex operator voice. She heard his audible sigh of relief and smiled her lunatic smile. Holding up the bottle of paralytic and the scary hypodermic needle, she jammed it into the rubber top of the bottle. She wanted to cackle with glee at his sudden and loud inhalation of air. After injecting the syringe full of air into the bottle, she drew up the medication taking great care to get the exact milligrams necessary.

"He's out," the doctor muttered, glaring at the resident anesthesiologist. "Why do you do that? You're such a bitch."

"I am what I am, Doc," she murmured, totally amused at this point. She inserted the needle into the injection port of the IV. Placing the mask over the man's nose and mouth, she began to count. "Ten, nine, eight, seven..."

~...~

Rue Ryuzaki sat in the corner of the noisy club that stank of sweat, stale cigarette smoke, old liquor, and pure sex. He did not belong here. However, it was a superb hunting ground. He was a hunter by nature; people were his chosen prey. These idiots had no idea that a killer was among them and tonight could be their last night on earth. His face split into an ear to ear grin of unadulterated madness. If only they knew...

Rue's eyes scanned the crowd, seeing the plethora of letters and numbers appearing over each person's head. He could see their names and the day they were destined to die. He had received this special gift at birth. This gift worked to his advantage, assisting him with choosing his victims. They were going to die anyway. He just had a little fun with them before their appointed time. The death god eyes he had been blessed with helped him locate his next victim immediately; a young man in his early twenties with short blond hair. Just as he was about to rise from his seat, he saw the woman who would change his life. Looking above her head, he saw nothing - no name, no date of death. What the hell? He plopped back down into his seat to study her closely. She was lovely; somewhere in her early thirties he would guess with lustrous brown hair that curled far down her back and was pulled back on one side with a clip that resembled a lotus flower. She wore a strapless dress of dark purple, the color of passion, that hugged her body and barely covered her ass. Nice. He had never been sexually attracted to a woman really. Or a man for that matter. The only time he experienced orgasmic bliss was when he was killing someone. Upon hearing his victim breathe their last breath, he would fall into a panting, trembling heap covered in their blood and basking in his insanity while enjoying a sensation akin to sexual gratification. Examining her more closely in the flashes of the strobe light of the club, he could see her dark eyes that held a cold, calculating expression. She was like him; she was a huntress on the prowl and it showed in her eyes as she held the young man in her sight without wavering. How very interesting.

Rue hunkered down on the chair, drawing his knees up to his chest and chewing on his thumb as he watched the cougar move in on the helpless, clueless prey of choice. His stomach clenched with excitement as she pulled the young man into her arms, fitting her body close to his. Another emotion rose within him as well; one he had never felt before. It made his stomach hurt, and he felt angry. Jealousy? Perhaps. She had stolen his prey after all. He continued watching as she slid her arms around the man's neck, gyrating her body against his as she whispered in his ear. Seeing the blonde nod and take her by the hand to lead her from the dance floor, he knew she had him in her deadly clutches.

"Shit," he growled, pushing himself off of his chair so violently it fell backwards. The sound was lost in the roar of the club. He followed them out to the parking lot. Staying close but ducking behind cars to remain undetected, he tailed them all the way to her car. Once again that odd mixture of sickness and anger hit him when he watched her kiss the man, the hungry, ravenous kiss of a true predator.

"Ow!" the blonde gasped, touching his lip gingerly after jerking away from her.

"It was only a little nip," she cooed, removing his fingers from his lip. She licked the blood that trickled from his lower lip. "There. All better?"

"Almost," he murmured, grabbing her by the hair to crush her lips against his.

Rue watched with growing interest as the woman seized a handful of the young man's hair, savagely jerking his head back. He covered his mouth to keep from emitting a sound when she slapped him soundly across the cheek.

"Don't forget who's in charge here," she snarled in his face, his eyes wide with shock and a bit of fear.

"Y-yes, m-ma'am," he stuttered in reply.

"Good. Let's go."

~...~

Rue once again found himself tagging along behind her but this time in a car. He pursued her all the way out to a lone rode off the main road that led back into a forest. Parking just off the highway to keep his car hidden, he walked down the dirt road to the only house located there. The house was a sprawling two-story log cabin. By the time he reached it, there was one light on upstairs. Jumping to catch the bottom of the terrace off of the room that was lit, he pulled himself up to easily haul his lithe thin body over the wooden banister. There was no curtain covering the sliding glass door so he was easily able to see the two people inside. It was a bedroom that appeared to have been set up specifically for a rendezvous like this. There was a bed, a night table, a lamp, and a dresser. Large sheets of plastic covered everything, even the walls. He saw that the young man had been tied to the basic brass bed, his arms and legs secured at each corner. The woman was sitting on top of him wearing nothing but a strapless black bra and matching panties. She was teasing her victim, rubbing her hands over his smooth hairless chest while kissing and nipping him hard enough to make him cry out. She laid down on top of the blonde, kissing him with violent intensity. His eyes followed the movement of her hand as she reached between the mattresses. His breath caught in his throat when she pulled out the hunting knife with a serrated edge on one side and a smooth edge on the other. He could only imagine how sharp that instrument was considering it was designed to cut through hair, hide, and bone.

"Wait...what the hell," the young man gasped seeing her raise the knife above her head when she was sitting up straight. "No...why are you doing this? You can't. Don't do this. Please!"

Without a word, she drove the knife downward, sinking it into his chest down to the hilt. Blood spattered over her body when she withdrew it. Rue found the contrast of the crimson red blood against her pale porcelain skin intriguing and stimulating. He pressed his palms and nose to the glass to watch her plunge the knife into the yowling, trapped quarry beneath her over and over. When his rapid breathing caused the glass to fog up, he had to back away a bit. Blood sprayed, covering the walls and her body until finally it was done. The young man exhaled for the last time ever. Rue studied her as her whole body shook, her eyes glazed with obvious satisfaction. His eyes followed the path of her hands as she smoothed the rich red fluid over her body as if it were the finest of moisturizer. Then she began to laugh. It was the laughter reserved for the truly, unapologetically, and lethally insane. He had never been in love before. But he was pretty sure this was it.

Rue saw her reluctantly remove herself from her victim. She disappeared from the room to return minutes later, clean and wet from a shower dressed in torn up jeans and a red t-shirt. His eyes surveyed her every movement as she began pulling down the plastic, wrapping it around the dead body of the blonde. This was obviously not her first time. Once the bloodied plastic and the dead body was secured, she pulled a flat-bed cart from the closet which she rolled the body onto.

"Amazing," he breathed while she calmly wheeled the body from the room. She had this thing down to an exact science. Moments later, she came back wearing gloves holding a bottle of cleaner and white towels. She was incredible to observe as she meticulously cleaned every inch of the room. When that task was completed, she left the room again, turning off the light this time. He was nearly in a panic to find where she had gone. Hearing the loud motor of a lift engage, he followed the sound to the back of the house. Peeking around the corner, he saw her push out the cart that had the towels and gloves piled on top of the plastic wrapped dead man. He noiselessly followed behind her to see her walk into a building that looked like a small house. Dozens of pottery objects from statues to plates filled the tables and shelves in the building. A massive kiln already had a blazing fire inside of it.

Rue could see the sweat forming on her brow and beneath her nose as she stood close to the kiln, throwing in the towels and gloves. Next came the difficult part, getting the body into the hellish fire. With surprisingly little effort and a lot more sweat, she hefted the body through the large hole of the pottery furnace to be incinerated. What she did next took him by surprise. She stripped off all of her clothes, including her bra and panties to put them into the fire. He could not stop staring at her naked body illuminated by the yellowish red flames of the fire. A tear appeared on her cheek, shining like a diamond briefly before it slid down her face to drip from her chin. However, there was a smile firmly planted on her lips. At that moment, he decided he wanted her. Not as his next offering to his murderous sickness, but as his partner in crime and his lover. He had never wanted anyone like he wanted her, and it bothered him immensely.


	2. Flock Together

Warning: Incestuous rape scene.

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Sera had only gotten two hours of sleep before she received the call to return to work. An eight year old girl had been brought in for an emergency appendectomy. The surgeon on duty was Dr. Blackwood. He always requested her specifically to be in his operating room; especially when it came to performing surgery on children. She was already horribly meticulous about her duties, but even more so when a child was the patient. There was a special place in her heart for children. She believed no harm should ever come to a child whether it be on purpose or on accident. Checking, rechecking, and triple checking her equipment and dosages, she sought to make the surgeries for them pain-free and complication free. She also kept a stock of sanitized and disinfected stuffed animals sealed in plastic bags to give to the children before their surgeries to assist with easing their fear.

Sera turned on the coffee pot before going to take a cold shower to bring herself to full wakefulness She hurriedly dressed in black yoga pants and an oversized white t-shirt with the word monster emblazoned on the front in purple. It wasn't that she was advertising her inner self; it was something she wore to work out in. When she did exercise, she trained like a crazed beast, punishing her body as if to atone for her less suitable and downright inhumane actions. Once she grabbed her coffee, she was out of the door. Being in too big of a hurry to get to work, she did not see the hulking black car sitting at the end of her road. She was also oblivious to the fact that she was followed all the way to hospital. The black car went unnoticed as anything unusual even though she had to wait for it cruise past her as she trotted through the employee parking lot to get into the hospital.

The surgery took longer than expected due to the appendix bursting during the procedure. This little hitch upset her greatly because it would put the child at risk for serious infection while extending her recovering time. Once it was over, Sera left the operating room without a word, hurriedly stripping off the sterile surgical gear to be wearing only her light blue scrubs. She needed a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Snatching the pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of her locker, she shoved a couple of bills into her pocket. The coffee would have to wait. Her nerves needed to be soothed first. Priorities. To squeeze in a bit of exercise for her health, she took the stairs down to the employee smoking area outside at the back of the hospital. Truth be told, she did not have the patience to wait on the elevator. Everyone has their vices. The top three on her list were coffee, cigarettes, and murder. As soon as she hit the back door, she put the cigarette between her lips and lit it on her way to sit on one of the many wooden benches with the funny looking huge plastic ashtrays that looked like stanchions on each end. She chose one of the flat benches without a back, laying down it. Closing her eyes, she inhaled a long draw from the cigarette before lazily blowing out the smoke. She shivered from the early morning air that was still a bit cool despite it being the middle of summer. The chill lingered along her spine. There was something else grating on her nerves - that unpleasant feeling of being watched. She cracked open one eye, glimpsing around the courtyard. Empty. Grunting loudly at her own paranoia, she closed her eyes and sucked on the cancer stick again. It was ironic how many health professionals smoke despite working with patients suffering the atrocious results of cigarette smoking. The sound of someone clearing their throat startled her so violently she nearly fell off of the bench.

"Dammit!" she growled, sitting up with her legs straddling the wooden planks beneath her. Her eyes instantly fell upon the source of the noise. There was a man sitting on the bench next to hers. He was perched at the edge like some massive weird bird, a great hulking vulture in human form with bushy black hair, a skinny body, and clothes three sizes too big. His blacker than black eyes were set in a gaunt, pale face with circles under them that made him appear as if he hadn't slept in years. His eyes. She gazed into his eyes and felt as if she were falling into a bottomless, sucking void. There was nothing there; no emotion, no soul, just...nothing. Without warning, an eerie red luminescence like the light reflecting in an animal's eyes filled the tarry black nothingness.

Sera gasped, looking away. When she turned back to look at him again, he was gone. After finishing her cigarette, she stood up from the bench to go to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee. That was all she needed-to begin hallucinating again. She told herself that particular phantom appeared due to her lack of sleep. However, hallucinations had been a part of her past. Seeing things and hearing things had helped her deal with the real, living horrors of her childhood. The man had looked like a demon. She had dealt with demons and angels as a child. She thought that was long over with. Her father had been a demon; a demon who visited her bed each night, stealing her innocence and her soul. Her mother had been an angel; as guileless and naive as the word implied.

_One night, her angel had not taken the special medicine the demon put in her tea every night to keep her asleep. Her mother had awakened in the middle of the night to find herself alone in bed. Then she heard it; the grunting and snarling coming from her daughter's room. When she entered the bedroom to find her husband raping her daughter violently, time stopped. The look on her mother's face would be forever burned into Sera's memory. She had turned pale with her mouth and eyes opened wide in big round circles of shock. Her mouth snapped closed with a popping sound but her eyes remained blank and unseeing as if she had suddenly gone blind. Without a word, she turned to leave, closing the door behind her._

_"Go after her," the demon ordered her. After slapping her across the face, he accused, "This is all your fault. If you had not tempted me with that body of yours, none of this would have happened. Get out!"_

_"But it's my room," Sera rejoined in her small childlike voice. She was sixteen years old, but she was still a frightened child. The nightly visits had begun soon after her twelfth birthday. Her body was changing, becoming more womanly as she grew breasts and developed curves. Her father, the sick bastard that he was, had taken notice of the changes as well. Her mother had lost his sexual interest years ago. Unwittingly, she had gained it. Her mother was childlike, helpless, and on the verge of losing her mind completely. Her mother had no idea this had been going on for years right beneath her nose. She had protected her mother from the truth, hiding her awful secret because she was afraid it would be the thing to totally obliterate her mother's fragile psyche. But the truth always has a way of asserting itself just as it had this night._

_Sera pulled on her robe, ignoring the slick yet sticky sensation of the blood trickling down her thighs. She hurt deep on the inside; physically and emotionally. It always hurt. He made sure it hurt and hurt a lot. Rushing from room to room in the house in search of her mother, her anxiety grew when the shocked woman did not appear in any of them. Then she smelled smoke. Her mother must be in her workshop where she spent most of her time sculpting pottery. Clutching the bottom part of her robe to hide the blood on her legs, Sera ran to the little building with smoke billowing from the chimney of the kiln._

_"Mom! Mom!" she cried, the heat from the pottery furnace nearly knocking her down when she opened the door. She saw her mother standing at the open door of the kiln, staring inside. "Mom! What are you - oh, no...MOM!"_

_Sera watched in mute terror and disbelief as her mother's clothes began to smoke and catch on fire due to her proximity to the kiln that had become a doorway to hell itself. Her voice could still not be found and she was unable to move while she observed the surreal sight of her mother crawling into the three-foot square opening of the pottery oven._

"Sera? Sera?" a voice called in the distance. Someone was trying to bring her back from her terrifying visit to the past. "Sera..."

"Dr. Blackwood," she gasped, opening her eyes to be looking into a set of kind pale blue eyes. She nearly tipped her chair over backwards when she jumped in surprise due to his unexpected closeness. Her hand was being held tightly in his to prevent her from crashing to the floor. Most men who got that close to her died. However, she liked Dr. Blackwood. He was a kind man who truly cared about his patients. That was a rare thing to find in doctors nowadays. Most physicians only saw dollar signs and just another body to be cut and sewn up, not a real human being.

"Sera," the benevolent doctor muttered in a slightly chiding tone. He pulled her back to an upright position, placing all four legs of the chair on the floor. He pushed a lock of his shoulder length, deep red hair back over his ear while he sat down in the chair across from her. "I'm really sorry to have called you in when you were supposed to be off today. You're the best at what you do. I know the patient will be in good hands with you there. It keeps me on my toes as well."

"It's all right. I don't mind," she told him, stifling her yawn. She took a sip of her cold coffee and grimaced. How long had she been sitting here asleep and having nightmares about the past?

"I'll buy you a fresh cup," he offered, standing back up.

"Never mind," she murmured, smiling at him. "I think I'll just go up to the roof top for a nap instead."

"Don't get sunburned. I know all about having white skin and getting sunburns," he said. Yes indeed he did being a blue-eyed redhead with light-colored freckled skin. He handed her the soda he had bought for himself. "Here. Take this then. I'll text you in an hour to make sure you don't stay up there too long."

"Yes, sir," she returned, feeling a genuine sibling type affection for him. There were a few human males that had managed to weasel their way into her good graces and her heart. So far, none had captured her attention as a love interest, just a friend.

Despite her dark hair and eyes, Sera had painfully white skin. She did not allow that to stop her from getting into the sun. There was always sunscreen. After changing into her black string bikini, she slathered on about a gallon of SPF 30 before heading to the roof where several lounge chairs awaited. Many of the female employees sun bathed during their breaks. She chose the chair closest to the edge of the roof and furthest from the door. After laying down her towel, she made herself comfortable on the plastic lounger. She understood why cats liked to sleep in slivers of sunlight and stretch lazily. The combination of the warmth sinking into her muscles while she elongated them felt really, REALLY good. Indulging in a lengthy feline stretch, complete with quite a bit of sighing and groaning, she sprawled out to relax. Just as she was beginning to float away into that fabulous parallel universe called sleep, she heard a low chuckle. Sitting bolt upright, she saw that odd man sitting like a gargoyle on the raised brick edge surrounding the roof top.

"Are you real?" she asked, standing up to move toward him. She expected him to disappear before her eyes at any moment.

"Yes," he answered curtly, his eyes remaining locked on hers. He did not move a muscle as she came closer.

"Who are you?" she inquired, raising her hand to his face. She allowed her fingers to hover just over the surface of the skin on his cheek.

"You can call me Rue," he told her, wrapping his bony fingers around her wrist. He smiled when she flinched and tried to pull away. "You can touch me."

Sera could barely breathe as he pressed her fingertips to the flawless white skin of his cheek. The only thing that marred his unblemished skin was the dark, bruise-like areas under his eyes. She doubted his skin had been exposed of the light of day often in his life. Today was one of those rare days since he was sitting in full sunlight on the roof top. Her ability to breathe deserted her entirely when he dragged her fingers across his cheek. His milky white skin was soft...so soft and smooth under her fingers. Her eyes followed the path of her fingertips as he pulled them over his dark red lips - red like blood. He was somewhat beautiful and definitely enchanting. A male Snow White. The pink tip of his tongue darted out to lick each fingertip. She gasped and tried to jerk her hand away.

"Don't," she mumbled, still attempting to pull away from him. "Don't do that."

"Why?" He released her hand, extending his hand to push his fingers through her shiny brown hair. It was just as silky as it looked. He grasped her hand, using her forefinger to trace his lips again. Pressing his other hand against her heart, he could feel it beating against his palm. It felt as if a butterfly were trapped under his hand and trying to escape. He had seen what she was capable of; she may look and feel fragile but she was definitely not a delicate butterfly.

"What do you want?" she whispered, her brain muddled with confusion. She had never seen this man before in her life. He was a total creep and acted like some kind of antisocial deviant. He had approached her in a highly unusual manner before proceeding to commit some highly inappropriate acts. Despite his bizarre appearance and his excessively aberrant behavior, she found herself drawn to him. She felt as if there was something between them; a bond that defied her understanding. The only thing that alarmed her about him was that he excited her on a carnal level. No man had ever done that.

"I want you," he answered in a shockingly bold way. He took her face between his hands, his eyes traveling down to her lips. He stared at her lips that had become swollen and red with a sudden rush of blood due to sexual arousal. Her breathe puffed across his lips in short, hot bursts. He knew she wanted him too. A ravenous hunger enveloped him as his eyes traced her slightly parted lips. Her tongue snaked out to moisten them which made them all the more inviting. His eyes moved back up to hers that were shiny and half closed giving her a sensuality that excited him all the more. He wanted to eat her alive.

"I know what you are," he whispered, moving his lips closer to hers. "I saw you last night. I watched you as you plunged the knife into the body of that man...again...and again. Thrusting it in hard, then pulling it out to do push it in once more...harder...deeper," he stated in a low voice that had become a seductive purr to her ears. His lips were so close to hers they grazed hers occasionally as he continued to speak. He felt her fingers twisting into the material of his loose white shirt, growing tighter, hanging onto him as she grew weak with lust. The fingers of one of his hands buried themselves into her flowing locks while the forefinger of the other slowly slid down her neck and back up again. His eyes met hers once more and he breathed, "I felt the pleasure...the passion along with you as you stole his life from him and made it your own. I know what you were feeling. I've felt it too. You see...I'm like you. I've killed people before...and I love that feeling. The power, the control...the satisfaction. The high of taking a life is like gaining immortality. It's like being a god."

Sera could hear herself panting. Her knees felt weak and her body was trembling. They were both freaks. She found it thrilling that she had found one of her own kind; a man who truly understood her, a man who shared her desires and appetites.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, untangling his fingers from her hair.

Sera did as he asked, breathlessly awaiting his kiss. Instead of an earth shattering kiss, she received a face full of hot air from the breeze blowing up the side of the building. Opening her eyes, she saw nothing but empty air in front of her.

"Fucking tease. What a bastard," she growled. Sitting down on the wall, she concentrated on slowing her heartbeat while fighting to regain control of her unruly body and runaway emotions. What the hell was wrong with her? Where did this guy come from and where did he keep disappearing to? She did not need another demon in her life but one had found her. This one she believed she would like.


	3. Visitations in the Night

First, a big shout out to my awesome beta, xfang-girlx. She, as always, has been an incredible help to me. Second, thanks to my fabulous and ever faithful reviewer Leyshla. I appreciate my girls!

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_Sixteen years ago: the day of Sera's seventeenth birthday and the day of her mother's funeral_

Sera had walked home from the cemetery in the rain, refusing to ride with her father. The rain did not bother her though it was cold. It felt cleansing as if it was washing off all of the filth she had carried around for years. She was sure her father was busy drowning his sorrow in some bar so she took her time getting home. Raising her face to the chilling drops, she allowed them to mix with the hot tears streaming down her cheeks. With any luck, he would find a companion for the night and go home with her. He had not touched her since the night her mother had killed herself. She had not allowed him to do so. Her mother's workshop, a small but complete house on its own, had become her haven. She walked into the building, locking the door behind her before she built a fire in the old-fashioned kiln. Until the fire could get going, she took a hot shower then changed into comfortable and warm black sweatpants and black sweatshirt. Lying down on the bed, she rolled up in the comforter and cried. She seemed to be unable to stop the tears from coming. Feeling a bit dehydrated, she got up to go to the kitchen for a drink. On her way there, she tripped over something in the dim light managing to stub her toe.

"Ow! Dammit! What the hell!" she yelled, dropping down to the floor rub her sore toe. Rocking on her butt, she massaged her toe while feeling sorry for herself. Her hand moved over something smooth as she felt around on the floor for what had tripped her. Struggling to see in the muted light that danced and moved across the wall in a mix of shadows and the reddish glow from the flames, she picked up the flat rectangular object. Gliding her fingers over the black leather cover of the notebook, she traced the silver letters. "D-E-A-T-H-N-O-T-E," she spelled out to herself. "Death Note? What the hell is that?"

Sera opened the book seeing what looked like an average notebook. It looked just like one of the composition books she used for journaling in English class. Death Note. What does that mean? A low growl sounded from the dark frightening her. She dropped the notebook, pressing her hand to her chest. Her heart was beating so frantically it hurt. Her breathing ceased entirely when a pair of large golden-yellow eyes appeared out of the night in front of her.

"You can kill anyone you want using that," a deep rumbling voice told her.

"What do you mean?" she asked, watching as a long black snout and sharp white fangs appeared in the light pooling around her. She was soon face to face with a massive wolf.

"With that notebook, you hold the power of death in your hands. I am a Shinigami. That is my notebook. By writing someone's name in that book, you can determine when they die and how they die. If you just write their name, they die of a heart attack," he explained, standing to his feet.

"Oh, my god!" Sera exclaimed, staring up at the Death God. He had to be at least seven feet tall, had the body of a muscular man, skin that was as black and shiny as ebony, and the wolf's head and neck with fur that curled down onto his chest. Thick gold rings pierced his ears and his nipples. Rectangular gold plates were embedded in his skin, forming a necklace across his shoulders and chest while smaller ones formed bracelets around his massive biceps. His only clothing was a thin linen skirt he wore in the fashion of the ancient Egyptians. He was beautiful, like a statue of the Egyptian god of the dead, Anubis. He was also terrifying to her.

"My name is Tutanubis. It means in the image of Anubis," he explained, reaching down to take her hand. He lifted her from the floor easily as if she weighed no more than a doll.

"Well, that name makes perfect sense," she muttered, continuing to stare up at him.

"Are you afraid?" he inquired, smoothing her hair back from her face. His large palm pressed against her cheek, covering the whole left side of her face.

"Yes," she answered truthfully, her body trembling. Strangely, she found the warmth of his hand shocking and comforting all at the same time. She would have thought anything to do with death would be cold, an unearthly cold that froze the body all the way to the soul. Her eyes fixed themselves on his fangs. Lines of slobber had formed between them, glistening in the low light of the fire. She could hear him panting as he stared at her with his huge yellow eyes that never blinked or moved from her face. "What are you going to do with me?"

"Nothing like that, my dear. It is forbidden. Besides, why would I treat you in such a manner as the monster you want to kill?" he asked her, watching her whirl away from him with the notebook held tightly to her chest.

"You know?"

"I know all about you. I've been watching you for months. I believe you are a worthy recipient of my Death Note."

Sera sat down on the bed, flipping on the small lamp sitting on the bedside table. It did little more than completely dispel the shadows and fully illuminate the profoundly masculine Shinigami with the canine head. Keeping her head down, she wrote furiously in the notebook propped on one knee while she sat cross legged in the bed. Once she finally stopped writing, she handed the notebook to the Shinigami who made himself comfortable on the bed next to her. She glared at him as if he were settling in to read a long novel. He seemed a little too familiar with her already, and this did not set well with her. Sighing heavily, she determined she might as well get used to it since he did not seem to understand boundaries.

"You plan to kill him yourself?" he questioned her, reading through the three paragraph narrative again.

"Yes. He deserves to die by my hand. I want to pay him back for everything he did to me. I will stab him once for every time he raped me," she said, staring at the wall in front of her.

"But - "

"My father is a very big man. I will use his arms and legs. If he gets chopped up into little bitty pieces that's fine. It will make it easier to stuff him in the kiln to get rid of the body. The very first thing I plan to do is cut off his - "

"Yes, well, you don't need to finish that sentence," he interrupted her, slamming the notebook closed to hand it back to her.

Sera carefully opened the notebook to add one more line to her father's death sentence. _And I will never, EVER, be caught._

~\0/~

_Present day..._

"Tutanubis! Tutanubis!" Sera screamed unnecessarily as she entered her house.

"I'm in here!" a deep resonating voice that almost sounded like a peal of thunder responded.

"Ugh," she groaned realizing his voice was coming from the television room. For a Death God, he had a disconcerting and ravenous addiction to pornography. She closed her eyes, knocking on the door. "Is it safe to come in? Are you decent?"

"Watch where you walk and you know damn good and well that I'm never decent," he answered.

"You're so disgusting," she admonished, walking into the room. Since she had warned him she was coming in he had turned off the tv and opened the curtains. She stepped around the dirty girly magazines, empty pizza boxes, and beer cans littering the floor. Tutanubis had gained an affection for far too many things of the human world. "You're such a perverted sicko."

"Takes one to know one," he retorted, adjusting the white linen skirt he was wearing.

Sera glared at the ancient Egyptian Shinigami of S&M - that was what he looked like to her anyway. "I had no idea Death Gods could develop so many vices. You need to clean this place up. Does it every bother you that you're such a living - " She paused, giggling at her own misplaced word. He was hardly alive being a Shinigami. "Such a terrible cliché."

"What do you mean?" He plopped his big body down on the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table in front of him. If it were not for his unusual, to say the least, appearance, it would be easy to mistake him for a human male.

"A man who is a lecherous creep is called a wolf," she informed him, sitting down beside him.

"I take that as a compliment."

"Of course you would." She scooted over a bit when he leaned toward her with his golden eyes glimmering mischievously. "There's something I need you to do."

"Anything for you, my Queen." He put his arm around her shoulders, licking her cheek.

"Don't call me that. Don't do that again. You know I hate that." That was exactly why he had licked her like a dog. She shivered, pushing him away. "I need you to find out everything you can about a guy named Rue. He looks like a psychotic black Dandelion. He visited me today and - what?"

"Do you mean the guy that was here last night watching you perform your macabre extracurricular activities?" he queried nonchalantly, staring out of the window to avoid her deadly glower. It was a good thing for him he was not actually alive.

"That would be the one. Why didn't you say anything?"

"He's harmless. To someone like you anyway. He would have seen me, and I'm not revealing myself to him. I'm yours and yours alone. Besides, he's not exactly human. He's something special. I already know who he is."

"What do you mean?" She moved toward him when he withdrew his arm from around her.

"He has a few names in this world. Rue Ryuzaki is the one he's using now. B, BB, Beyond Birthday...you never know who he'll be next. He's known to Shinigami as the Death God half breed. It's because of him that the rule was written that Shinigamis cannot have sex with humans. He's the child of a Shinigami and a human woman," he told her, moving closer to her. He put his finger under her chin, tilting her head up. "Good thing for you it's against the rules or I would have made you my lover years ago."

"Hmph," she snorted, pushing his hand away. "You helped me slay a monster. You wouldn't have become one."

"You're right. I'll always protect you. Don't worry your pretty little head about anything," he told her, pulling her into his arms.

"How do I find this guy?" She pressed her hand against his chest. It was still strange to feel nothing under her palm, no heartbeat, just his muscles flexing.

"He'll come to you again when he's ready."

"Yeah. That's the part I don't like."

~...~

Several days went by with no appearance by the freak of human nature and the world beyond. Sera was preparing to enjoy her next few days off. She had just completed a seventy-two hour shift. That meant she had lived at the hospital for the three days, eating and sleeping when she could between the regularly scheduled surgeries while being on call for emergencies. At least she had three days of uninterrupted rest to look forward to. Dr. Blackwood had already assured her that he would not call her and just make due with the anesthesiologist on hand.

Sera had just poured herself a glass of wine; a dark red, almost black, pinot noir. She had flicked on the grill section of her stove and was seasoning her steak when she heard Tutanubis call her name.

"You have a visitor," he informed her.

"Dammit," she hissed, throwing the steak on the grill. She was not in the mood for visitors tonight. Especially him. A warmth settled across her back, and she knew he was behind her. Her body shuddered in response to him being so close to her.

"Miss me?" Rue asked, his warm breath flowing across her neck and raising goosebumps.

"No. Not particularly," she responded coldly, flipping her steak. She wanted just a bit of color and the grill marks on the outside of the meat. Rare was her favorite way to eat a steak. It was hot and brown on the outside, cold and bloody on this inside. Just right.

"Oh, that hurts," he moaned in mock offense. His fingers drifted up her arm raising every nerve to attention as they made their way to her neck that was bare to him since she had her hair twisted up into a messy bun. His breath stirred the loose hairs hanging against her neck and he felt her quiver uncontrollably from the tickling sensation. He liked the way her body reacted to him. In the highly polished brass backsplash of the stove, he could see her reflection. His touch had provoked a stimulating response from her which was evidenced by her hardened nipples straining against the tight fabric of her white tank top.

"What do you want?" Sera inquired testily, hearing the tremor in her voice. Her eyes drifted closed when his fingers slid around her side and along the round edge of her breast. An involuntary gasp burst forth from her lips when his finger grazed her sensitive nipple. She cursed her body for being so weak, for immediately yielding beneath the slightest touch from him.

"I've already told you," he whispered, his lips brushing her cheek. "I want you."

Sera instantly came back to herself when the delicious scent of the cooking meat filled her nostrils. She snatched the steak from the flames with the tongs, putting it on her plate. Her stomach growled in response to the smell of the food. Her need for food triumphed over her sexual hunger. Pushing past him, she sat down at the counter in the kitchen to eat. It unnerved her terribly how he casually took a seat next to her as if he had been an invited guest. Pretending as if he did not exist at this moment, she cut into the steak watching as blood gushed forth and covered her plate. Perfect. She had not overcooked it after all despite the distraction sitting next to her.

"Who was the first person you murdered?" Rue queried boldly, taking great pleasure in observing her voraciously devouring the steak like a true carnivore.

"Not one for idle chit-chat are you?" she grumbled through a mouthful of barely cooked meat. Taking her time to chew and savor, then washing it all down with a long sip of wine, she was in no big hurry to answer his question. She doubted he had any intention of leaving soon anyway. "My father. What about you?"

"I can't remember really. There's been so many," he replied wistfully as if referring to past girlfriends instead of victims who died by his hand. He reached over and took her wine glass by the stem, swirling the deep red liquid around as he held it up to the light.

Sera stopped eating to study him as he stuck his nose in her glass to deeply inhale the wine. She would have never guessed he was a wine connoisseur. Dropping her knife and fork onto her plate with a loud clatter, she huffed in disbelief as he daintily sipped the wine to give it a taste before draining her glass.

"By all means, make yourself at home. What's mine is yours," she muttered irritably, hopping off of her bar stool. She retrieved another wine glass from the rack built underneath her counter and filled both glasses before sitting back down. Sitting the wine bottle next to her, she hoped she did not have to share again. Presumptuous bastard. He was getting on her last fucking nerve. Speaking of... "So do you plan to fuck me at some point or do you prefer being a tease?"

Rue chuckled; a low, sinister rumble that had a threatening overtone to it. "All in good time, my dear. First, I think we should play together. Extreme foreplay if you will."

_I will NOT! , _her brain screamed. Instead, she heard herself saying, "How so?"

She propped her foot on the cushion of the bar stool between his legs. She regretted it when he slid forward, pressing the bulge in his jeans against the bottom of her bare foot.

"I want to be with you when you kill your next victim. We can even choose the unlucky soul together. It will be extremely intimate," he said, his soft, smooth voice moving across her jagged nerves like a lover's caress. His hand covered her foot, pressing it into his crotch as he moved himself against it. "I believe it will be extraordinarily exciting for the both of us. I can barely contain myself just thinking about it."

"I-I c-can t-tell," she stuttered while he continued to use her foot as an object of sexual gratification. Closing her eyes, she leaned back in her chair struggling to control her breathing and stifle the sexual hunger growing within her. This only made it easier to hear to his subdued panting which made every muscle in her body clinch with desire. She yelped and opened her eyes when she felt his hand sliding up her leg. Her eyes met his as his fingers slipped under her skirt and between her thighs. She was afraid and breathless with anticipation all at once.

"Close your eyes," he told her.

"No," she whispered, her obstinate eyes meeting his. Her nose grazed his when she jumped as his fingers traced the edge of her panties along the inside of her thigh.

"Okay then," he returned, pressing his lips to hers.

The kiss was slow, tender, undemanding and giving. His soft lips leisurely ravaged hers, daring to bringing her to a high state of arousal. She had been kissed before but never like this. The thing that terrified her was that his kiss was possessive and burying her self-control with its gentle quality. Then...he was gone.

"Bastard!" she screamed, slamming her fist down on the counter in frustration. She was left panting like a bitch in heat. Then the horny dog showed up.

"Watching you was better than any porno I've ever seen!" Tutanubis exclaimed, his long pink tongue lolling out of his mouth.

"Ewww! Would you get out of here?!" Sera hollered at him, jumping off the bar stool.

"Where are you going?" he called after her without giving in to the temptation to follow her.

"To take a cold shower," she replied over her shoulder.

"Good luck with that. There's only one thing that will put the fire out that he started!"

"Yeah, I know."


	4. The Adrenaline Rush

Thank you to my extra pair of eyes, xfang-girlx!

Dear readers: If you've made it this far in the story, you can tell it's no warm fluffy romance and the violence is not for the faint of heart. This chapter follows suit with the rest.

* * *

Sera was in the operating room preparing for the next patient when the Head Surgical Nurse came rushing in. She halted the preliminary audit of her equipment due to the unexpected and somewhat unwelcome interruption. Her eyes leveled on the woman to see that the usually calm and confidently passive Nurse Hartner seemed to be upset to the point of tears.

"What's wrong?" Sera inquired with suspicion, her dark eyebrows drawing together.

"There's been a change in the surgery schedule," the woman gulped.

_So? These things happen all the time, _she thought to herself, watching the woman's light blue eyes widen as she took a deep breath. What in the world could possibly have her this distraught and on the verge of panic?

"They're bringing in a man for a court ordered castration. He's a convicted child rapist," Cassie Hartner whispered unnecessarily since it was just the two of them in the room. Her thin fingers shook as she ran them through her lengthy blond hair that had not yet been tied back in preparation for the surgery.

Raw fury surged within Sera so quickly that a wave of nausea caused her to wobble slightly on her stool. She was thankful she had been sitting down before hearing the disturbing news. Her body boiled on the inside with anger in its severest form while a cold, sickening fear crawled over her skin like a thousand spiders. She shuddered and pressed her hand to her clammy forehead that was slick with sweat. The gentle hand placed on her shoulder made her lurch backwards as if she had been shot. A pair of worried and gentle blue eyes were looking into hers.

"Are you all right? Do you need to go home? I can tell Dr. Blackwood that you're ill and - "

"No, I'm fine," Sera insisted, attempting to gather her wits.

"Are you sure?" Cassie asked, her eyebrow raising with disbelief. "I am the Head Surgical Nurse and I can order you out of the operating room if I deem you're unfit to perform your duties."

She did not need to be reminded of that. She also knew she could not blow a golden opportunity to make a disgusting degenerate pay for his crimes. "I'm all right. Really. I skipped breakfast this morning," she lied, standing up to leave. "I have a protein bar in my locker. I'll go eat that and grab some water. I'll be back up to par in no time."

"Okay."

Whirling back around before walking out of the door, she asked, "What's the patient's name?"

"Richard Gainer," her co-worker replied, looking down at the clipboard in her hand. She was going over her pre-surgical checklist.

Sera quickly left the room to go to the employee locker room. Thankfully, the room was empty, but she knew anyone could roam in unexpectedly. Not only did she eat the protein bar and guzzle a whole twenty ounce bottle of water, she retrieved the page from her Death Note that she kept in her locker for an occasion like this. Placing the paper on the closed door of the locker next to hers, she began to write. _At exactly midnight tonight, Richard Gainer will die of a massive heart attack that is completely unrelated to his surgery. _She wanted him to die, but without putting herself or her coworkers under suspicion for malfeasance. With that done, she splashed water on her face before returning to the scrub room to cleanse her hands thoroughly. When the time came for the operation, she was sitting in her spot with a syringe in hand waiting for the patient as he was wheeled into the room.

Richard Gainer was a pitiful excuse for a man, not just in deed but in stature as well. He might weigh one hundred and twenty pounds fresh from the shower and dripping wet. Around forty-two years of age, he was almost completely bald having only a semicircular ring of thinning brown hair encapsulating his skull. His eyes were narrow and a shit brown color. He had been carried in a special gurney; one from the old psych ward complete with leather straps and buckles at his wrists and ankles to keep him tethered to the flat table. Two prison guards complete with automatic rifles had escorted him to surgery. One guard stood outside of the door while the other posted himself by the door just inside the operating room well out of the sanitized area to keep from contaminating the surgical environment.

Sera smiled at the cop inside the room. He was young, probably fresh from the academy and this was his first job. Nice looking, built wide and tall like a human brick wall, with thick black hair cut in a military style and sharp dark eyes that did not miss a thing; he made for quite the intimidating presence in the room. After he returned her smile, she pulled up her mask to get down to business. She had pre-loaded the syringe with the paralytic but had substituted adrenaline for the painkiller. This switch would push the medication through his system at a faster rate but would dissipate during the procedure without leaving a trace. The man would be completely debilitated, unable to scream for help while enduring agony without the mercy an analgesic to abate the pain. When she slipped the mask over his face, she only turned on the oxygen without using the sleeping gas. He would be paralyzed but wide awake. To add to his misery, she gave him a little bit of nitrous oxide, just enough to make him high which heightened his senses. She was about to take him on a journey of pain that would probably kill him if he were not scheduled to die at midnight tonight. He would feel everything during his castration; every slice of the scalpel, every cut of the scissors, every pinch of the clamps, and every single stitch. A vicious smile pulled up the corners of her lips. She could not even begin to imagine how he would suffer until death mercifully claimed him. Nor did she care.

~...~

"Going out tonight?" Tutanubis asked her as he watched her dress.

"Yes," Sera answered curtly. Many years ago she had become accustomed to her Shinigami and his excessively inappropriate conduct. She adjusted her breasts in her bra underneath her dress to show the right amount of cleavage to look enticing without appearing slutty. "What do you think?"

Her lascivious Shinigami studied her carefully with his big yellow eyes. She was wearing a simple cream colored dress that would look like an ugly, old-fashioned flour sack if it weren't for the wide royal blue sash tied at her waist. She wore flat ballerina shoes of the same deep blue color to match. The girls sat perky and pretty at the low, round neckline of the dress. "Very nice," he complimented with a sigh.

"What is it?" She stroked the fur at his neck, removing her hand when he growled lightly.

"He will find you tonight," he warned her.

"I hope so." She fluffed her hair, choosing to leave it down.

"Sera, I don't like him," Tutanubis stated bluntly.

"Jealous?"

"Maybe."

"What else?" Turning with her hand on her hip, she glared at him. He knew something that he was not telling her.

"I didn't tell you everything. He's not _exactly_ like you," he told her, laying his big heavy hand on her shoulder. He had also realized too late that the half breed Death God did pose a danger to her - emotionally at least.

"Yes, he is. We're both murderers. He's no worse than I am," she argued, shrugging her shoulder to remove his hand.

"He _is not_ like you. At least you have what could be called a good reason to kill. Almost admirable in fact. B isn't like that. He kills to have fun. He's indiscriminate and does not care if the person is guilty or innocent of anything. He enjoys it. He likes to torture and maim and destroy. With him, it's all about satisfying his curiosity, fulfilling his sick need, and inflicting all of the pain and terror he can on his victim," he explained, studying her face that somehow remained expressionless.

"I'm leaving," she announced, spinning on one foot to turn her back to him before sashaying out of the bedroom. "When I come home, I don't want you to be here."

"I won't be...I promise." Then he was gone, just as she had ordered.

~...~

Sera was sitting at a table in a dark corner of the gallery section of the bar. It gave her a complete view of the dance floor below. She doubted she would be able to spot Rue before he snuck up on her since he was like a phantom, appearing and disappearing at will while moving in silence and darkness. Perhaps he was part of the darkness itself. Tutanubis had given her that impression earlier. She boredly stirred her Dirty Shirley, a drink containing lemon-lime soda and cherry vodka, scanning the people on the dance floor. The myriad of dancers bumped and grinded their hips together, hands roved over bodies, and sometimes lips met. At times it was nearly impossible to tell who was dancing with whom. _REAL_ dancing had obviously become a bygone art. She sighed grumpily, feeling exceedingly antsy. A sensation like cold water being poured down her spine made goose bumps raise over her body. A puff of chill air blew across her face from some mysterious source. Then she could sense him behind her. The frigid, dark energy that radiated from him stimulated her senses and made her weak. The delicate skin of her neck prickled with a ticklish sensation when his fingers grazed it lightly while pulling her coffee-colored waves back over her shoulder. Soft lips pressed a kiss to the skin over her wildly pulsing jugular vein.

"You started the fun without me," Rue murmured in her ear, his breath hot and his tone accusatory.

"But I didn't...I haven't," she stammered, fumbling her words when his lips met her sensitive neck again. This time, his tongue flicked out to give her a thorough taste. For the second time today, she was grateful to be sitting down before gravity did its worst and dragged her to the floor.

"Richard Gainer," he reminded her, holding his wrist in front of her face so she could see his watch. It was almost midnight. Threading his fingers through her hair, he rested his lips near her ear to begin the countdown. "Five, four..." His lips brushed her ear making every muscle in her body tighten. "Three." He puckered to kiss the outer curve of her ear. "Two." He could feel her leaning back into him, her breathing labored. "One."

Sera moaned as he pulled her hair to lean her head back so he could smash his lips to hers. She was left breathless as he consumed her mouth and annihilated her senses with his intense kiss. She was unsure if the booming in her ears was the bass beats of the music or her thundering heart.

"Shall we have more fun? Together?" he asked, leaning into her to hold her up. His finger moved over her jaw, turning her face back to the dancers. "Pick one. Who will it be?"

Sera shivered feeling his arms move around her waist to hold her while his narrow chin dug into her shoulder that he was using as a resting place for it. She drained her glass while surveying the people below once more. With a detached, purposeful demeanor, they discussed and eliminated the prospects one by one. As time and patrons dwindled, they began to wonder if any suitable prey would present itself. At last, they found the one: a dangerous and somewhat scary looking male with short, spiky, scarlet red hair. A silver bar pierced through both sides of the cartilage at the top of each of his ears. Hoops and diamond studs decorated the outer curve of his ears. There was a silver hoop in his left eyebrow and diamond stud in his right nostril. Sera would not care to guess what else might be pierced on his body. Dressed in a black t-shirt and black jeans, he sat comfortably sprawled on the couch covered by bimbos in sequined dresses that barely covered their asses. Apparently, he and his personal thugs were considered VIPs since they were sitting in a private area of the bar reserved for special customers. His status as a gang leader could not have been more obvious if he had worn a flashing sign.

According to the numbers above his head, Rue could see that the man was destined to die before the sun rose. If left to fate, the man would most likely die from the bullet of a rival gang member. However, fate would be taken out of the equation in the determination of this man's demise. Roan Flannery would be dead before dawn by the hand of his beautiful Sera.

"That's the one?" Sera asked, just to be sure they were thinking the same thing.

"That's him. Go get him," he urged her, patting her on the behind after she stood up.

Sera did not bother to turn around because she already knew there would be nothing but empty air behind her. Houdini had nothing on this guy when it came to disappearing acts. She made her way downstairs, pausing at the bar to order another drink before she approached the clueless fatality waiting to happen. Half of the margarita, with an extra shot of tequila for courage, was gone by the time she made it to the top stair of the raised area where they were all sitting. The loud talking and laughing halted to be replaced by the suspect, angry glares of nearly a dozen shady people. The most evil glowers were coming from the bimbos when they saw her standing there.

"Is there something you want, pretty lady?" Roan asked, pushing the blonde out of his lap. The woman's grunt of aggravation and humiliation went ignored by the man who had inflicted the damage to her feelings. He stepped past the blonde to stand in front of the woman who had interrupted their party.

Sera kept her eyes glued to his, staring intently into the almost colorless blue eyes that held nothing but hardness and brutality. She casually took another sip of her drink, allowing one side of her mouth to lift up into a brazen, self-confident smirk. Her hand moved to the thick gold chain he wore around his neck, fiddling with it as she inclined her body toward him. Her fingers clutched the chain, pulling him down so that her lips were close to his ear.

"You. I want you," she answered bluntly, kissing his neck just below his earlobe. The shudder of unadulterated lust that ran through his body made her giggle. She particularly enjoyed men like this. Breaking and terrifying seemingly powerful, fearless men like this held a rush like that of a strong drug.

"Oh? You do? What will you do to get me?" he inquired, an egotistical and irritatingly presumptuous grin on his face.

Sera smiled back at him with sincere self-confidence that clashed with his brittle and easily shattered arrogance. Taking the time to finish off her drink, she waited to answer until he began to show signs of impatience. She grabbed him by the shirt to pull his lips down to hers for a rough, consuming kiss. She could hear the bleats of protest from the women while the guys cat called and shouted words of encouragement to Roan.

"I'll be out in the parking lot waiting for you," she whispered to him, giving him a gentle peck on the lips before turning to leave. She flicked her hair over her shoulder then proceeded to pull the car keys out of her small purse. Roan would be along soon, and she wanted to get to her house quickly. Rue would be waiting for her there. She did not want to keep him waiting too long. After getting into her car, she hit the button to unlock the passenger's side door then put the keys in the ignition to start the engine.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Roan questioned her after plopping down into the seat.

"Angel," she replied, using her pseudonym. She could feel his eyes on her, leisurely looking her over from head to toe. "Do you like what you see?"

"Very much. I can't wait to see what's under that dress." For emphasis, he placed his hand on her knee.

"I bet." Her foot pressed the gas pedal hard, sending gravel flying before they careened onto the pavement with a squeal of tires. When his fingers slid under the hem of her dress, she stomped the pedal to the floor. She needed to get this horny idiot tied up before he went too far. After his hand moved upwards, she placed her hand over his to prevent it from going where it should not. "Slow down there, speedy. I have plans for you."

"Really? What kind of plans?"

"It's a surprise." Torture and death followed by a homemade cremation always came as a surprise. Thankfully the man with the wandering hands behaved himself the rest of the way to her house, resorting to boring small talk to occupy himself. She gave semi-truthful answers to the barrage of questions such as what do you do for a living and what are your hobbies. She doubted he would like to hear that her hobby was killing nasty men who deserved to die and doing it in the most painful way possible. In a moment of brashness, she asked, "Have you ever killed anyone?"

"Of course I have," he answered, watching her face for a reaction. It seemed to disappoint him when she did not even blink. "Scared?"

"No." She sighed as if bored, turning onto the dirt road that led to her house. "Have you ever killed anyone who didn't deserve it?"

"My, my, so full of questions." His hand found its back to her thigh.

"Have you?" she pressed, parking in her garage.

"Probably."

_I'm sure you have, asshole, _she thought to herself, getting out of the car. Too many times she had been in attendance for surgeries on innocent bystanders of gang violence which had included small children and even babies whose only crime had been being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Walking ahead of Roan, she led him to her play room. A strangled gasp tore from her throat when he pulled her into his arms for a shockingly gentle kiss. She was not expecting such tenderness from a man who appeared to be so prone to violence. Her hands pressed to his chest, and she felt his heart beating beneath her palm. _So alive, so wonderfully alive_, she mused, allowing herself to savor the sweet kiss he was giving her. For a few minutes, she became engulfed in his soothing caresses and delicate kisses. She was immediately reminded of her purpose when she realized they were both naked and moving toward the bed.

"Wait!" she panted before he could lay her down on the bed.

"What's wrong?" he gasped, breathing in ragged gulps of air.

"Lay down," she ordered him, opening the top drawer of the chest that held her props. Holding the velvet ropes behind her back, she moved to the bed to teasingly hold them above him. Instead of disgust or shock, there was a spark of curiosity and anticipation that made his pale eyes sparkle. Sliding the ropes along his arm to stimulate him more, although it was obvious he did not need any encouragement, she tied his right arm to the bedpost before following suit with the rest of his limbs. Once he was securely restrained, she picked up the sapphire blue sash that had been around her waist.

"Oh, baby," he whispered when she straddled his waist.

Sera was careful not to allow his incredibly rigid manhood to enter her body no matter how hard he thrust his hips at her. A jolt of delectation ran through her body when his face twisted with frustration from his unsatisfied need. She wrapped the piece of blue silk around his neck, kissing him before sitting back up straight. Twisting the ends of the sash around her hands to secure her grip, she pulled with all of her strength.

"What are you doing?" he wheezed, bucking wildly beneath her. "You're choking me."

"Exactly," she growled through her clenched teeth, leaning back as if she were reigning in a horse.

"You're crazy," he choked out, jerking his body in a useless attempt to free himself.

"Yeah, I am," she agreed, stretching her arms wider to constrict the belt around his neck even more.

Sera had become an expert at tying snug knots that tightened upon receiving any resistance. There was no chance at all that he would break the binds around his wrists and his ankles, and they had actually began to cut into his skin due to the reinforced material sewn between the velvet. Taking up the slack of the ligature around his neck by looping it over her hand again, she closed her eyes and pulled. Seeing a person die this way was never a pleasant experience. Feeling their life ebb away while adrenaline inundated every nerve in her body was like heroine and just as intoxicating. She never felt more alive than now when she was stealing the life of Roan Flannery. Hearing his pitiable attempts to draw life giving air into their lungs only to be denied was quite empowering. She was doing something the voiceless victims of his unpunished crimes and their helpless families could never do - she was taking from him what he had stolen from their loved ones. Karma was a bitch, and she had become her self-appointed assistant. Listening to the gagging sounds he was making, she hung on for the ride with her thighs clamped to his sides while his body convulsed as she gradually pulled tighter. The spastic lurching of his body slowed to pitiful twitches and the sickening retching became disturbing gurgling as he lost his battle to breathe. Allowing her sore arms to slacken, she drooped forward in exhaustion. The adrenaline rush had run its course leaving her devoid of any energy.

"Sera," Rue called, wrapping his warm around her waist. He tenderly pushed the sweaty hair away from her forehead to kiss her. "It's done. It's over. You did wonderfully, my love."

"Rue, I - " Her voice was barely above a whisper. Speaking took energy she did not possess at the moment so she remained silent. She felt her body being lifted from the dead man underneath her. Held securely in Rue's arms, her head lolled lifelessly onto his chest.

"Take a shower and lie down. I'll take care of this," he told her, setting her on her feet at the door to the bathroom in her bedroom.

Sera clung to the wall, her weakened knees refusing to support her weight. She crawled to the shower, turning on the hot water and allowing the cold water to beat down on her head as she huddled on the freezing tile floor. Finally, the water became warm to thaw out her chilled skin and muscles. After being revived by the cold water then relaxed by the hot water, she found enough strength to stand and dry off. Walking into her bedroom, she saw Rue's white shirt lying on her bed. He must have taken it off before returning to do the dirty work that she was accustomed to doing by herself. She would never have imagined it was possible to have a literal partner in crime, but she liked it. Bleary eyed and sleepy, she pulled the oversized white shirt over her head and lay down on the bed. She fought to stay awake until he came back. Since there was no bloodshed, the clean up process should be relatively quick. Just as sleep was about to pull her under, she felt the bed move as he sat down next to her. Rolling over, she placed her head in his lap since he was sitting with his back against the ornate wooden headboard. Her brain grew fuzzy, and she could not think because his long thin fingers were brushing through her damp hair. Had she become his pet, a thing to be stroked and used by him? Her body had become light as air because she had embarked upon her journey to dreamland.

"You did well," Rue praised her, his delicate fingertips brushing over her cheek. "You're quite a treasure. I'm so glad I found you."

Sera's heart skipped a beat, and her belly quivered with happiness. She hoped he meant what he said. Never before had she craved the attention or approval of a man. But he was no ordinary man. Scooting forward, she enclosed his thin waist with her arms as to hold him captive.

"Stay with me," she mumbled, sounding as if she were severely inebriated in her current state of drowsiness.

"Go to sleep." His hands enclosed her upper arms, pulling her body upward until she was sitting in his lap with her head under his chin.

"Please...please stay with me," she begged shamelessly, losing her battle with sleep. Even if he didn't stay, she knew he would return to her at another place and time of his choosing.


	5. My Beloved Monster and Me

Warning: graphic...well, damn near everything. Language, violence, and sex, OH MY!

* * *

Sera had not seen Tutanubis or Rue for more than a week. She had found it difficult to look Dr. Blackwood in the eyes at work. Perhaps it was because he reminded her of the man she had recently killed. An emotion she had never felt before had crept into her soul which she thought no longer existed. Guilt. Remorse. Harsh and stinging, bitter and hard to swallow; it pierced her heart and clawed at her mind, tormenting her. Since she had begun her three days off, she subjected her body to hard punishment to calm her mind. She performed crunches, push ups, and lifted weights until her limbs became too weak to hold her up. Once she recovered from that bout of self-discipline, she forced herself to endure more torture by running until she vomited. She had miscalculated the distance and the exact moment when her body would completely shut down from her self-inflicted reprimand. Her body gave out on her a few yards from her back door . She was left in a sweating, panting heap in the tall green grass with the sun beating down on her as sweat flowed from her body. Within minutes, she passed out due to exhaustion and dehydration

Thankfully, Tutanubis had decided to return to her. He found her in a pitiful heap, out cold from pushing herself too far. He picked her up and carried her inside to put her in the shower without bothering to be the least bit gentle. After sitting her on the cold tile floor of the shower, she still did not regain consciousness. He was beginning to worry. Turning on the water, he watched as the frigid water beat down on her with absolutely no results. She was still unconscious and still not moving. Walking out of the bathroom to the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator door to pull out a cold bottle of water and one of her sports drinks. Her shrill scream broke the silence when he was halfway back to the bathroom.

"There's my girl," he muttered to himself, walking into the bathroom.

"Goddamn you, Tutanubis," she growled, shivering as she waited for the water to warm up.

"Too late, sweetheart. I was damned from the beginning. Here," he said, opening the glass shower door to shove the bottle of lime green liquid at her. "If I hadn't come back when I did, you would probably be dead."

"Would that be a bad thing?" Sera asked, twisting off the cap. She was too busy gulping down the drink to notice the intense glare from the Death God.

"Have you forgotten what I am and that you belong to me?" he shot back, noticing her eyes open wide. Apparently she had forgotten. He had allowed her to become too friendly, too familiar - just way too close. "I can take you any time I wish, Sera. You are mine."

"Then do it...just do it," she rejoined, her voice a coarse whisper. She leaned against the wall allowing the water that was finally hot to wash away her tears. Steam filled the shower from the boiling water yet she felt nothing. Not a single ounce of warmth.

"What have you allowed him to do to you?" Tutanubis questioned her.

"Nothing," she mumbled, turning her back to him. Squeezing citrus scented shower gel onto her body poof, she scrubbed until her skin became red and raw.

"Stop it...please stop," he begged her as she squirted more soap straight onto her skin to scour her body again.

Sera pretended to ignore him as she rinsed off the soap then proceeded to wash her hair twice with the pink grapefruit scented shampoo before working the conditioner of the same scent through her long hair. She would smell like a citrus orchard which was fine with her. Citrus had a clean, fresh smell that made her think of the clear blue skies of summer while eating a sweet juicy orange. Clean. She would never be clean again from all of the blood and hate she had tainted herself with. Everything she had tried to do to cleanse her mind, her body, her very soul, had only made it worse. Made her worse. Once she had dried off and put on her fuzzy terry cloth bathrobe, she went to the kitchen to prepare herself a chocolate peanut butter high protein smoothie. Her nausea subsided once she had finished off the shake. Grabbing another bottle of water to continue rehydrating, she felt the need for a cigarette. Her handsome and uncustomarily quiet Shinigami companion joined her on the balcony as she sat in her robe sipping the water while sitting in one of the wooden Adirondack chairs with her feet propped on the banister.

"Going hunting tonight?" Tutanubis inquired, folding his arms as he studied her curiously. He shook his head disapprovingly as he watched her light up a cigarette, enjoying the first puff like a heroin addict delights in shooting up. Why did she push herself so hard to exercise when she did counterintuitive crap like smoking and drinking too much?

"Don't judge me god of porn, pizza, and beer," she mumbled, blowing the smoke out through her nose. "But I guess it doesn't matter what you do because you're dead."

"You look like a dragon when you do that," he told her, watching a seductive smile stretch her soft pink lips across her face. "I'm not dead," he corrected her.

"But you're not alive either," she retorted, standing up with the cigarette held prissily in her hand. She moved toward him, petting the fur on his neck and allowing her fingers to drift across his chest. "What's it like being caught somewhere in between?"

"Probably the same as it is for you. You pretend to be a good person, but you're a wolf in sheep's clothing. You're a shameless killer, but at least you kill those who deserve it. You're not really good," he said, putting his hands on her waist. He moved a lock of her rich chestnut colored hair out of her face to look at her. "But you're not really evil either. You just are what you are and it's always been that way so you don't know anything different," he explained, plucking the cigarette from her fingers to throw it over the banister to the ground below.

"Hey!" she yelled in protest. Crossing her arms over her chest, she pouted unapologetically when he would not allow her to move to get another one from the pack sitting on the table beside her chair.

"Stop that. It's a disgusting habit," he admonished her. He put his finger to her lips when she opened her mouth to argue. "We're not talking about my vices, we're talking about yours."

"I'll die someday. The sooner the better right because then I'll be yours forever," she said, putting her arms around his neck. "As you just reminded me."

"Are you afraid to die?" he asked her, stroking her hair. He was petting her but she did not seem to mind. Maybe she found it comforting as he meant it to be.

"Not really," she said, pressing her cheek against the soft fur that curled onto his chest. "I'm tired. I've grown weary...of it all...of myself."

"If you're interested, I found the perfect candidate for your brand of warped justice while I was trolling around in the world of the living to amuse myself," he informed her to change the subject. "A man accused of three separate charges of rape. Beat the charges on all three. Want to hear the best part?"

"I'm breathless with anticipation," she replied, moving out of his arms. Her excitement increased as a wicked gleam entered his golden eyes.

"He's a defense attorney specializing in helping his clients beat sexual offense raps of all kinds. Of course, he can't bill that in his advertising but word does get around the prisons and the criminal underground."

"Just where the hell have you been playing for over a week?" she muttered, lighting another cigarette. "Never mind. I don't want to know." She turned her back to him before he could chastise her again for smoking. "Well, isn't that lovely. Just fabulous in fact. I'll be killing two kinds of sick animals in one. Did you bring a picture of him so I know who to look for?" She studied the picture he handed her that had been printed off of the lawyer's website. He was a beautiful man with hair the color of caramel pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his slender, elegant neck. Her fingertips drifted over his womanly pretty, heart-shaped face. His barely blue eyes held a distinct hardness, a cruelty that betrayed his delicate, harmless appearance.

"Calix Rubo the third...oh, dear god," she muttered after reading his name aloud. "Two others have been cursed with this name? It's like a cruel family joke."

"Don't forget the esquire." With a throaty laugh, Tutanubis pointed out the pretentious title behind the man's haughty and ridiculous name.

"Esquire," she sneered, wadding up the piece of paper. "What an asshole."

Sera sucked on her cigarette, holding the crumpled paper to the glowing red end. A flame erupted and she carefully held the paper at the corner between her thumb and forefinger. She watched it burn. When the flames grew too hot on her hand to hold it anymore, she dropped the ball of fire over the edge of the balcony. Watching it drift downward, the flame burnt out before it before touched the ground. All that remained was a few ashes that were scattered on the breeze. The life of Calix Rubo would swiftly become as meaningless as the paper she had just destroyed.

~...~

Sera walked into the upscale bar wearing a simple off the shoulder dress in a deep royal blue color. The skirt fluttered around her thighs; short enough to be sexy, long enough to be tasteful. Her hair had been pulled up on top of her head in a loose bun with a few curls left free to frame her face and trail down her neck. She found her target sitting at a table for two alone in the corner scouting the bar and assessing his possibilities for his next victim. She recognized that predatory look in his eyes. At the moment his prospects were few and pathetic. There was an aging socialite sitting near the piano flirting with the twentysomething piano player who was in between songs. A black-haired gold digger wearing a designer dress and knock off brand shoes was sitting at the bar ogling the gorgeous lawyer. The tags were probably tucked inside the dress so she could return it to the store tomorrow. There were a few other random women already talking to men in expensive business suits in the fancy bar for elites colored in ivory and white with chandeliers of pearl and shiny gold in contrast to the black lacquered tables scattered around the floor. Choosing a table in the middle of the room, she sat down and with a flourish placed her blue suede clutch on the table. She was hoping she could draw his attention without having to be too obvious like the wannabe at the bar. The handbag matched her shoes; yes, blue suede shoes. She gave the waiter wearing a tuxedo a mesmerizing grin before she ordered a cosmopolitan. It was one of the stereotypical drinks chosen by the woman who was on the prowl for a man with money to entice him to spend it on her. Taking small sips of the drink, she pretended to glance with bored disinterest at the men spread throughout the bar. When her eyes slid to Calix, she was not surprised to see he had already taken notice of her. She gave him a demure smile, lowering her eyes as she touched her neck with the fingertips of one hand. Coquettishly twisting a curl around her finger, she raised her eyes back to meet his. That was all it took. The lecherous lawyer was on his feet and walking toward her table. Damn. He was almost too easy.

"Calix Rubo the third...esquire," he added with an arrogant grin, extending his hand toward her.

_Shit! Is this guy for real?_, she asked herself silently. Somehow Sera withheld her laughter. Giving his hand a disdainful glance, her eyes moved back up to his. "Angel."

Sera steeled her nerves for the onslaught of worn out, tiresome pick up lines that usually followed when she gave her name. Astoundingly, none came. She gave him a sincere smile when he sat down in the chair next to hers without a single word.

"Nice to meet you, Angel," he returned, glimpsing her empty glass. "What are you having?"

"Anything you want to give me," she replied, arching her eyebrow slightly in a salacious manner.

"After this drink would you like to go somewhere...somewhere that we can be alone?"

"I know just the place."

~...~

Sera walked ahead of him, opening the door from the garage. She bypassed the downstairs kitchen, walking down the hall to the staircase that led to the second floor. To her amazement, he had been polite and a great conversationalist. He had kept his hands to himself during the ride and had not indulged in lobbing any obvious double entendres at her. She kicked off her shoes as she paused at the second floor kitchen, the fully stocked kitchen she always used.

"Would like a drink?" she inquired, going to the double door refrigerator that looked just like her cabinets.

"Water would be nice," he returned, sitting down on one of the bar stools.

Once again taken by surprise by the man, Sera reached in to grab two cold bottles of water. If she had not run into this sort of deceitful creature before, she would want to believe he was a nice guy who had somehow mistakenly received a bad reputation. However, she knew a real monster lurked beneath the charm and benign good looks. She was about to come face to face with the devil within. Her fingers brushed his when she handed him the bottle. After he took a long sip, a single glistening drop of water remained on his full lower lip. Leaning forward, she licked the droplet from his lip. Her lips hovered over his waiting for him to make the next move. The first contact was brief, practically virginal, and a little bit shy. This guy was a fascinating game player. She moved between his legs, sliding her arms around his neck. Her lips met his again. This time the kiss was urgent and ravenous, his hands clamping onto her hips as he claimed her mouth. She thrust her tongue into his mouth as his fingers drew down the zipper of her dress. Her lips broke from his when he pushed down the material that had been holding the dress up on her one shoulder. The cloth easily fell to the floor, gathering around her ankles. She was wearing nothing but a pair of blue panties.

"Let's go," she murmured, taking him by the hand to lead her to her special play room.

The beast arrived in full force once they entered that room. Calix shoved her against the wall with such strength her head actually bounced off of it, and she would swear she heard the drywall crack under the impact of her skull. He pinned her wrists by her head against the wall, pressing his lips to her throat. What began with a sensuous nibble ended with an excruciating bite that brought a scream from her lips.

"Mmmm, that's what I like to hear," he murmured against her skin. His lips drifted lower, kissing and nipping on the way down to her breast.

Sera's breathing became shallow and labored as his hot, wet tongue lapped over her taut nipple. She groaned when his lips enclosed the peak of stimulated flesh. Her knees separated willingly when he wedged his leg between them. She pushed her hips into him when he pressed his body to hers while he sucked harder on her nipple which dragged another groan from her lips. The pleasure instantly morphed into pain when his teeth sank into the sensitive flesh. Another scream erupted from her throat.

"Oh, my sweet Angel," he whispered into her ear, his breath scorching hot on her neck. "I'm about to take you to heaven."

There it is. He did not refrain from using the hackneyed phrases after all. Sera glared at him as if challenging him to continue. A flash of movement behind the aggressive man caught her eye. Black hair, white skin, and a loose white shirt. He was here. A malicious smirk touched her lips. The abrupt change in her from fearful victim to dangerous predator gave her attacker reason to pause. She enjoyed the way he studied her face with a mixture of puzzlement and uncertainty on his face. He seemed to be suddenly questioning exactly what he had gotten himself into.

"You're going to die," she threatened him with a self-assured grin.

"What?" he chuckled in arrogant disbelief.

A hand seized his ponytail pulling him backwards. The fear that flooded Calix's eyes made her shiver with excitement. Rue snatched the man away from her, punching him in the face. The single hit was so powerful it exploded the capillaries in his eyeball which made the white sclera fill with blood.

"You heard the lady, asshole," Rue growled, smiling like a madman as the blood trickled from the stunned and terrified man's eye. His eyes lingered on the morbid tear that left a crimson trail down the lawyer's golden skinned, perfectly structured cheek. "You're going to die."

"Wow," Sera gasped, shocked at the strength of the man who appeared to be on the verge of starvation. She went to the dresser to grab several lengths of rope to assist with tying up Calix who wiggled and screamed like a frightened woman. Her eyes met Rue's over the body of the man they had just restrained. Her breath halted when Rue grabbed her by the back of her head to pull her forward to kiss her like a lover reuniting with the woman he had longed for.

"Shall we begin?" he asked, glancing down at the man tied to the bed.

"You first," she offered, walking around the bed to the dresser. She opened another drawer to reveal a selection of knives, scalpels, hooks, and other instruments that were usually reserved for surgery and saving a life. Here they were used for cutting, stabbing, and taking a life.

"I knew there was a very special reason I choose you," Rue said, reaching for a razor blade. "I think I'll do something about that pretty face of his first. You're welcome to watch."

"I'd rather not. I'm more interested in the finale. The end is all I care about, not the suffering." Her eyes gazed into his inky black ones once more.

"I'll save his end for you then. You can put him out of his misery." He watched her leave, disappointed that she would not stay to watch him have his fun.

Sera went back to the kitchen for her bottle of water. Taking refuge on the balcony to avoid having to listen to the screams of the tormented Calix, she sat down to relax with a cigarette while drinking her water.

"What are you doing?" Tutanubis questioned her, materializing out of the dark next to her.

"Smoking and looking at the stars," she answered, raising her face to the night sky.

"I mean with him. The abomination?" He was upset and she could tell by his voice. He was speaking with a snappy, clipped tone.

"Which one?" She lit another cigarette from the stub between her lips.

"You know which one I mean!" he exclaimed angrily.

"Jealous?"

"Quit accusing me of that shit."

"Are you?"

"No. Worried."

"I'll be all right."

"I know you will. I will make sure of it."

Silence engulfed them. The only sounds to be heard were crickets and the puffs of air when she blew out smoke. Sera patiently waited for Rue to come for her. It seemed like it was hours before he emerged from the torture chamber of his making.

"Here he comes," Tutanubis announced at last, disappearing without a trace.

Sera stood up, turning at the moment Rue pushed open the glass sliding door that led out onto the balcony. She stared him as he hauled in noisy gulps of the cool night air. He was sweating and panting, his eyes dark and blank. Large splatters of blood covered his shirt while smaller droplets dotted his face. Blood dripped from his fingers onto the wood floor of the balcony. She was horrified.

"You're too messy," she muttered, moving past him. She was too upset to say anything else to him. He had totally negated the purpose of her careful preparation of the room. The point was to have no traces, no remnants, no evidence what so ever of the horrors that happened in there. She did not want anyone to find out nor did she want to be reminded of her actions. Her irritation with him turned to fearful shock at the sight she beheld after walking into the room.

Calix lay on the bed, his breathing shallow and labored. The skin had been cut and removed from his face in small, defined squares. Strips of skin had been taken from other random parts of his body as if Rue had been testing where it would hurt the most. Shaking her head, she cleared her mind of the shock caused by viewing Rue's macabre handiwork.

"Please, please kill me," Calix begged in a raspy voice.

"Did you rape those women?" she queried, opening the drawer to retrieve the hunting knife she favored for making her kills.

"Y-yes," he stammered, his voice hitching from the incomprehensible pain. "Please..."

"Were there others? Who was your first victim?" She stood beside the bed, glaring down at the pathetic wretch and sad excuse of what was left of a human being.

"Wh-why?"

"Answer the questions." She blanched to see that the skin had been peeled from his lips. Her stomach flipped and threatened to rebel on her. Killing was one thing. Torturing, maiming, and exacting this kind of sick cruelty was quite another. She could not say that the man did not deserve it, but the results were no less revolting.

"There are many others. The first was the best. It's her fault I became addicted to it. I raped a fourteen year old girl when I was freshman in college. She thought I was so cool. She wanted it. I gave her what she wanted," he insisted, his bloody lips peeling back from his teeth leaving red streaks across their pearly white surface.

"Wrong answer," she snarled, thrusting the knife downward at his belly button. The spurt of warm blood covered her naked chest as his plaintive cry filled her ears.

"The power...the control, I had over those bitches...the fear in their eyes," he wheezed between noisy breaths.

Sera had heard enough. Jerking the knife out of his body with both hands, she brought it down again. Repeating the up and down movement over and over, she made a disturbingly straight line of wounds from his belly button to his throat. Her biceps were beginning to burn, but she continued to thrust and pull. He was dead, but this did not stop her.

Rue put his arms around her, halting her spastic movements when he saw the tears sliding down her face. He put his lips next to her ear, whispering, "Enough. Let it go."

Sera felt her body being pulled from the bed to a standing position. Her arms were being held out straight at her sides by two very strong hands grasping her sore upper arms. Her fingers uncurled from the thick handle of the knife, allowing it drop onto the plastic covered floor. The plastic crackled and the knife made a muffled plopping sound. She crumpled to her knees, covering her face with her hands despite the fact they were soaked with blood. Her body was shaking uncontrollably as she cried. She had not cried like this even after killing her father. Her breakdown had nothing to do with killing the lawyer. It had everything to do with realizing that she was becoming even more of a hideous creature due to being a partner of the man in the horrible maiming of their victim. She felt Rue's arms enclosing her, holding her to his body. He was warm, so warm. She could not remember the last time she had taken comfort in the warmth of another human being particularly a man. Despite herself, she wanted him.

"Call me BB," he told her, kissing her cheek.

"BB?" She turned her head to look at him, her teary eyes unable to focus on his face. Her eyes closed when his lips pressed to hers. She willingly accepted the tender kiss that consoled her, alleviating the overwhelming emotions. He wanted her. He loved her even if she was a monster.

"Did he hurt you?" His voice was laced with real concern.

"Not much." She sighed when his fingers stroked across her nipple. Her lips sought his as he massaged her breast. Unbridled lust and the desire for him pushed out all other thoughts and emotions. Her hands slid under his shirt, pulling it over his head. The blood on their hands streaked each others body as they explored chests, bellies, and backs. She was astonished to find that lean, smooth muscles lay beneath the skin that was covered by all of those baggy clothes.

"We should take a shower first," Sera suggested, unbuttoning his loose jeans. Her body quivered as he inhaled a shaky breath, sucking in his stomach until it was concave.

"Okay." He took her hand, leading her to the shower. He knew the layout of her house so well he could maneuver around it in the dark. However, he was never truly in the dark because his eyes were like that of a cat and enabled him to see through the darkness.

The shower became part of their foreplay. Gentle hands created mounds of bubbles to wash off the remnants of the blood. Lips touched, tongues entwined, and hands roamed while the water washed over their bodies. Without bothering to dry off, they somehow made it to the bed while keeping their insatiable mouths together and their arms tightly locked around each other.

Sera giggled when they fell onto the bed together in a knot of writhing arms and legs. Her demeanor immediately became very serious when his black eyes stared deeply into hers. She bit her lower lip to hold in the whimper as his fingers traced her cheek while his manhood throbbed and rubbed against her hungry body. Her body shuddered again, and she bit her lower lip harder as he prepared to push into her.

"Do you want this? Do you want me?" BB asked, keeping his eyes locked on hers. Somehow she had maintained a purity about her. Possibly since she had more admirable reasons to murder people than he did. She killed for vengeance against those who would be deemed guilty of heinous crimes. He killed because he liked it. He picked his victims indiscriminately, murdering guilty and innocent alike. His motives were completely selfish. Morbid experiments to sate his own curiosity and feed his sick desires. However, she seemed sad and filled with guilt about the things she had done. There was also a bit of fear deep in her eyes. Of him? Of what she was becoming? This made him want her even more; to rid her of remorse and fully corrupt her by stealing what remained of her soul, her humanity.

"Yes, I do," she answered breathlessly, holding his gaze as he lowered himself into her. Her body was resistant at first, not having accepted a man since she was sixteen and never by choice.

"I won't hurt you. I'd never hurt you," he whispered, moving with extreme caution.

Sera did not believe that he would _never_ hurt her but at the moment she did not care. She twisted her arms around his neck, spreading her legs wider to accommodate him into her tight, defiant body. Slowly, he sank into her, kissing away the tears that leaked from her eyes. Once he was contained completely inside of her, she wrapped her legs around his waist while he held still. They shared a kiss, a beseeching kiss that was an unspoken question, asking her to give herself up to him - not just her body, but every part of her. She pressed her face into his neck, urging him to move. He showed her a tenderness that she would have thought him incapable of expressing. She moaned as he rocked his hips gently. It actually felt good...and right. She had no idea it could be this way. Clinging to him, she concentrated on every movement, every ripple of his muscles, every vocal expression of his pleasure. Her arousal increased with each moan or grunt from him. Her fingers glided over his back, paying close attention to each muscle as it contracted and released with his movements. She moved her hand around to his chest, pressing her hand to his heart. Her eyes latched onto his face when his expression changed to one that seemed to be of pain. The movements of his hips increased while his breathing became louder and heavier.

"Sera," BB gasped, his body convulsing.

Sera closed her eyes. She knew what was happening; he had reached an orgasm. Her hands pressed against his slim hips feeling the muscles working beneath his skin as he continued to move. Unexpectedly, every muscle in her body tightened as a heat deep inside of her exploded to send a surge of pleasure across every nerve fiber in her body. She cried out his name, her body moving beneath his in a fitful spasm she could not control. Just when she thought it was over, he would move his hips and another wave of bliss would wash over her body. She stared wide-eyed at the ceiling when he rolled off of her to lie next to her. Her hand covered her heart, feeling it beating wildly as she breathed like she was hyperventilating.

"Are you mine?" BB asked, kissing her neck. He smiled as goosebumps rose over her entire body.

"What?" she asked, turning her head to look at him. She sighed when he kissed her, sweetly and innocently. Her whole body felt tingly when his lips hovered above hers.

"Are you mine?" he repeated, his lips moving lightly across hers.

"Yes," she answered breathlessly.

"I knew you would be."

Why did that sound so damn sinister?


End file.
